


the road that they walk on is paved in gold

by ships_to_sail



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Bickering, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Honeymoon, M/M, Massage, Road Trips, Tags May Change, history nerds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-03-27 20:25:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13888497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ships_to_sail/pseuds/ships_to_sail
Summary: ‘Rafael and Sonny’ would always feel to Rafael like the happy accident that changed his entire life. He hadn’t meant to befriend the messy, lanky, mustachioed mess that had walked into SVU that day. He hadn’t meant to find him charming, smart, goofy, or fiercely loyal. But then, one day, he looked up, and all he saw in the doorway of his office was a pair of crystal blue eyes and a man he wanted to take home, to undress and unpack and dig beneath. Sonny was a puzzle, and Rafael was great at puzzles.Or, twenty-one days on the road with two big nerds who love each other, history, and maybe not much else.





	1. 01

**Author's Note:**

> This lovely little thing will be 21 chapters to cover 21 days of the most ridiculous Barisi honeymoon headcanon. No idea how long the chapters will be, or WHEN they will be, but they will be.
> 
> None of this would be possible without BooyahReagan and grateful doesn't even begin to cover it!
> 
> Title from "The Way" by Fastball
> 
> The tip jar is always open for spare kudos/comments!

The first day of the rest of Sonny Carisi’s life started almost five hours earlier than it was supposed to, but what could he say? He'd never been good at tamping down excitement in favor of sleep, as evidenced by every Christmas morning he'd ever had, even well into adulthood.

After the fourth time he'd rolled over in as many minutes, Rafael reached out a sleep-heavy hand and patted him once on the cheek before threatening the world's fastest annulment if he didn't hold still. Sonny had kissed him on the palm instead and gently slipped out of bed, ignoring the tired whine from Rafael. Sure enough, his lonely whimpers soon transformed back into heavy snores. 

Sonny padded down the hall to the kitchen, bare feet whispering in the early morning quiet. Sonny would never have admitted it to Rafi, but this was absolutely the best time of the day. Before the rest of the world was awake and the hours always seemed to move a little slower. He could have an entire day before Rafael awoke, and making something from nothing filled him with a warm sense of accomplishment.

He pulled canisters and bowls from their places in the cabinets, wincing slightly at the unavoidable clangs of metal hitting granite. When he had the materials assembled, he set the oven to preheat and slipped in a set of bluetooth earbuds. Johnny and June Cash started a simple, clear melody together as he cracked eggs into a metal bowl, switching to a Dead Kennedy's jam as he was adding cheese, milk, and mushrooms, sliding a skillet onto the burner and tossing in a pat of butter. 

He shimmed his shoulders and wiggled his hips as Celia Crúz came up next, measuring out the sugar twice when his enthusiasm got the best of him. Flour followed, and as the butter began to sizzle and turn brown in the pan, he added half of the egg and vegetable mix. With a quick pivot, he added milk and more butter to the flour and sugar, grabbing some old bananas from the basket on the edge of the counter. 

He mashed them gleefully as Nirvana followed an old Frank Sinatra tune. He was just sliding the second omelet onto a plate, ten minutes left on the muffins when someone tapped him on the shoulder and a fork went flying from his hand.

Rafael laughed loudly as the fork clattered to the floor and Sonny clutched his chest. “Jesus, Rafi, are you trying to kill me? Set the fastest record to widowerhood?” 

Rafael bent to pick the fork off the floor and held tight when Sonny reached out to take it back from him. “After last night, I'm pretty sure your heart is up to the strain,” he purred, his eyes glowing dark and hungry in the early dawn light.

“Oh yeah, Dr. Barba,” Sonny responded in kind, using Rafael’s grip on the fork to pull him in until he could hook a finger beneath the waistband of his pajamas and tug him the rest of the way, long arms wrapping around his neck. “Is that your official medical opinion? Because last I checked passing the Bar and passing your Boards are two different tests.” A smile curved the corner of his lips.

“Shut up and don't steal my jokes,” Rafael purred against the soft skin behind Sonny's ear. “Fuck me again before we have to go,” Rafael pressed a series of light kisses along the underside of his jaw, dragging his teeth slowly along his pulse point in a way that made Sonny shiver and his mouth go dry.

“Well. When you put it like that,” Sonny said into the soft space between them, sliding the fork from Rafael’s grip and putting it in the sink so that he could wrap the other man's hand in his. “Lead the way,  _ husband _ ,” Sonny drawled, his eyes teasing.

Rafael rolled his eyes and pulled Sonny down the hallway, turning them both so that he had his hands firmly on the man's hip bones and was walking him backward through the bedroom door. He didn't stop until Sonny's legs hit the bed and he dropped, Rafael situated firmly between his thighs. Sonny looked up at him and felt heat bloom beneath his ribcage.

There was no bad angle for Rafael, but this one? Looming above him, the soft expanse of middle and the long line of throat visible from where Sonny sat, practically panting? This one might be his favorite.

Sonny exhaled, and Rafael’s cock twitched at the warm breath that ran across the outside of his briefs. 

“Let's put that mouth to good use,  _ Detective _ ,” Rafael growled, gripping Sonny's hair and watching as pale hands pulled his underwear down over his growing erection. The blondes witty retort was lost as he wrapped full, pink lips around Rafael’s dick and hollowed his cheeks.

Rafael closed his eyes, let his head fall back, and filled the tender silence of the room with the kind of filth his mother would've lit a candle for.

**

“I truly cannot believe that this is the solution you came up with,” Rafael said, fingering the seal on the plastic wrapper covering the five chalky, dry donuts. 

“It's your fault the delicious, made from scratch banana muffins of this morning burned beyond all recognition,” he teased, the smell of charred baked goods still fresh in his mind. “Besides, I offered to stop by Gordianos on our way out of the city,” Sonny said, his eyes intently on the road as he put on his blinker and changed lanes, checking his blindspot three times before smoothly slipping into the center lane.

Rafael made a sound that was almost a snort, and Sonny glanced at him for an instant before locking his eyes back on the road. “What?”

“You drive like Lucia,” Rafael replied through a mouthful of donut.

“And the next time we see her, I'm telling her you said that,” Sonny shot back, his tone light and a smile on his lips.

“You wouldn't dare,” Rafael said, his tone not nearly as confident as his words. Sonny just shrugged one shoulder, and his grin grew. 

“Why not? I'm the son she likes more now, anyway.” 

Even Rafael couldn't hold back a chuckle at the memory of his mother's teary, effusive, champagne-soaked toast. Rafael could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen his mother drunk, but their reception had put them all to shame. “Yeah, well. She and I have that in common,” Rafael said, licking the dusting of powdered sugar off his fingers.

He didn't miss the way Sonny's eyes kept darting sideways, following each finger as it made its way into Rafael’s mouth. He took a sick sense of joy in darting out his tongue to lewdly wrap around his thumb, using his teeth to tease his thumbnail.

He saw Sonny's Adam's apple bob and would have sworn he felt the car swerve almost imperceptibly, but the joke was on him when he reached clean fingers back into the sleeve of donuts and came up empty. He'd somehow managed to eat all five of the offensive little things.

Sonny reached behind him into the plastic grocery bag on the floorboard and came up with another crinkly package, the donuts inside gleaming waxy and brown. He tossed it into Rafael’s lap. “Here. Eat mine.”

“No, it’s okay-”

“Rafi,” Sonny did his best to sound stern while keeping his focus on the road. “You just made the world’s biggest pouty face at all your donuts being gone. Eat them. I promise it’s fine.”

Rafael wanted to open his mouth to argue, as was his God-given talent, but at that moment Sonny lay a warm, heavy hand on his knee and his jaw tensed, his lips clamping shut. Rafael had never been the world’s best boyfriend, but he was making a concerted effort to be a better husband. Which included, apparently, eating your significant other’s cheap gas station fare after inhaling yours. 

“‘’fanks,” he mumbled, his mouth full, and he took a long swig of coffee to wash down the slightly stale chocolate taste. Luckily, his coffee was always his domain and thus hadn’t faced the same blow-job related fate as the rest of breakfast. He closed his eyes as the warmth and caffeine settled into their well-worn biological pathways, and didn’t open them again until he felt the car wheels transition from street to bridge.

“You know, I still don’t see why we had to start in Staten Island,” Rafael said into a lull between songs on the radio. He snuggled down into the space between the seat and the door and watched the city, his city, stream past the window. He cracked the window and took a deep breath, letting the air play with the ends of his hair as he rested his forehead against the glass.

“I’m guessing that ‘because that’s where Lafayette started’ isn’t the answer you’re looking for,” Sonny mused, his eyes dangerously torn between the traffic in front of him and the draw of happy, relaxed Rafael watching their home from the outside. Rafael seemed to glow, his white teeth and silver aviators catching the crisp morning light in a way that made Sonny believe even more in angels. It was an affection he couldn’t shake, even when Rafael snorted.

“You’re such a nerd.”

“You married me.”

“Yeah,” Rafael said, the teasing in his voice replaced with a fondness that bordered on gratitude. “Yeah, I did.”

‘Rafael and Sonny’ would always feel to Rafael like the happy accident that changed his entire life. He hadn’t meant to befriend the messy, lanky, mustachioed mess that had walked into SVU that day. He hadn’t meant to find him charming, smart, goofy, or fiercely loyal. But then, one day, he looked up, and all he saw in the doorway of his office was a pair of crystal blue eyes and a man he wanted to take home, to undress and unpack and dig beneath. Sonny was a puzzle, and Rafael was great at puzzles. 

So when weeks turned into months, and months became two years and ring, and the final puzzle pieces of their life together were finally falling into place, Rafael hadn’t been able to tell Sonny no to his rather cockamamy honeymoon idea. Rafael would have preferred a trip to somewhere warm and sunny, somewhere the sand of the day could be washed away by the brush of salt at midnight. 

Instead, Sonny had proposed the ultimate history nerds road trip: three weeks in a car as they traveled along the route General Lafayette took during his farewell tour.

Rafael had thought he was kidding until Sonny came home from the library with an entire stack of Fodor’s guides to cities along the east coast. Until the entirety of their internet search history was Yelp! Guides to road food along their proposed route. Until he’d signed on the dotted line for their rental car, two days before the ceremony, Sonny’s fingers shaking a little as they closed on the keys.

Sonny joked that the Constitution of the United States was his Bible, and this was his chance to take the kind of religious pilgrimage his ancestors would be proud of. Rafael joked that he’d convert to whatever religion Sonny wanted, as long as they were both still alive at the end of twenty-one days in the car together. In the end, Rafael had promised twenty-one days, Sonny had promised decent mattresses and stops for coffee on demand, and all that remained was actually getting married.

“You don’t have to stay awake for me,” Sonny reassured him, his long fingers playing with the tiny hairs at the base of Rafael’s neck, running them first up, then down. It had been silent since they’d crossed the other side of the bridge, the city firmly in the rearview behind them. Rafael smiled and nodded, sinking lower into the warmth of his own body heat as he felt his eyelids drop.

“Wake me when we stop, yeah?”

“Why, you want more donuts?” 

Rafael didn't have a retort. For that, he would've had to hear Sonny, and to do that he needed to still be awake. Which, Sonny was bemused to see, he no longer was.


	2. 02

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one beta'd this and it was written all in one sitting at gods know what time and yeah. It's all my fault on this one pals #lolsob

Rafael Barba didn't think of himself as an old man. Sure, he wasn't quite the spring chicken he'd once been, but he liked to think he wore his years well. He didn't miss the way eyes followed him across the courtroom, hunger veiled beneath the guise of intellectual curiosity. The way more than one intake of breath hitched if he unbuttoned his suit coat at just the right moment. He'd been accused of strutting on more than one occasion, and not unfairly.

He was by no means a gym rat, but he enjoyed tennis and jogging and even the occasional round of racquetball left over from his early corporate lawyer days.

All of which was to say that he had no earthly idea why his body was revolting so violently to a second full day in the car.

Sonny had delivered on both of his promises so far, making more than four unplanned stops their first day in pursuit of Rafael's elusive caffeine limit, and providing a deliciously comfortable bed their first night.

So when he collapsed into the equally lush bed the second night, his lower back screaming and his hips on fire, he was tempted to believe the results of his furtive WebMD sleuthing - he probably had cancer, or pneumonia, or some kind of rare osteoporosis. It  _ couldn't  _ be that he was pushing 50. It just couldn't.

He was just starting to think about what they'd have to inscribe on his tombstone when the mattress shifted beneath him and he felt a warm, heavy weight slide over the backs of his thighs.

He grunted as Sonny's weight settled on top of him, the blonde’s long legs coming to rest alongside his as his bony knees lightly pinched Rafael's waist. Strong fingers kneaded into the warm flesh on either side of Rafael's spine, pressing in firm circles until they hit a knot and then digging in until Rafael groaned and attempted to shift away. From above him, he heard Sonny chuckle, low and dark.

“I'm dying, and you're enjoying it,” he said, his words punctuated by another deep groan and a hiss through his teeth.

“You're not dying, Rafi. And I wouldn't say I'm enjoying it, really,” Sonny replied in a tone that implied he was, in fact, greatly enjoying it. “But I gotta say, you do look really cute right now.”

“Me in pain, that's your new definition of cute?” Rafael's back arched as Sonny moved up to his shoulders and found a particularly stubborn knot.

“No. You, spread eagle and face down on the bed is my definition of cute, but believe it or not, the rumpled shirt and pouty face don't hurt.”

Rafael did his best to look over his shoulder, his bottom lip extended to the fullest, a puppy-like whine escaping his lips. Sonny chuckled and used the pads of his fingers to gently prod Rafael's head back down onto the bed.

Rafael took deep breaths through his nose and tried to relax. Usually he relished the chance to walk that line between pleasure and pain, but as Sonny moved from his neck to his shoulders he felt something pinch. A sharp heat radiated up the side of his neck and along his collarbone and he wanted to beg for mercy.

“You're full of knots, Rafi.” Sonny's voice was wrapped in concern.

“Tell me something I don't know.”

“You sure all these hours in the car are the best idea? I mean, it's probably not too late to book that lodge in Vail...” Sonny's hands had stilled completely and the air in the room stilled. “I'm thinking maybe this is gonna be a bad idea.”

“Nope. Nope nope nope,” Rafael braced his hands under his shoulders and pushed up until Sonny got the message and slid off his hips and on to the hotel bed. Rafael crossed his legs and leaned back on straight arms. “What the hell are you talking about, a ‘bad idea’. You've been looking forward to this trip your whole life. You were so ready to leave early you had me half convinced that we didn't need a reception and could definitely leave right from the church without anyone noticing. We've had this conversation eight million times before, Sonny, and its a little late, considering we're  _ already on our honeymoon _ . So what gives?”

Sonny ducked his head and shrugged, knocking his knees into Rafael’s. “I just. I know you said yes because you love me, but I don't want you to think I wouldn't be happy doing literally anything else in the world with you.  _ I've  _ been looking forward to this my entire life, but you haven't. You deserve to be happy on your honeymoon, too.”

“Have I given you any reason to think I'm not happy?”

Sonny cut a glance at him and smirked, dropping his voice in his go-to Rafael impression. “‘I'm dying and you're enjoying it’.” Rafael felt momentarily sheepish. He hadn't meant for his theatrics to cause any legitimate concerns.

“I may have been laying it on a little strong,” he admitted quietly. “I'm sorry, Sonny. Really. I don't want you to think I'm unhappy just because I'm, well, being me.”

“I guess maybe I just feel like you should get to be you, and back pain free, and…” Sonny chewed on his lip and shrugged again, suddenly fascinated with the Monet print framed on the wall behind them. “It's just...Gina.”

Rafael stifled a groan, but couldn't quite hold back the eye roll. “You're not seriously worried about what your sister said today?” They had called Gina from the car and, before they'd gotten the chance to tell her she was on speaker, she'd laid in to Sonny about how silly and selfish it was for a grown man to make his grown husband spend three whole weeks on the road in pursuit of some silly childhood fantasy vacation.

She had, luckily for all of them, stopped just short of calling Rafael old and Sonny a dumbass. It sounded to Rafael like an argument they'd had before, but Sonny took the call off speaker before Rafael could hear any more.

From what Rafael did hear, it didn't exactly sound like a pleasant conversation.

Sonny shrugged, glanced at Rafael, and nodded. The look in his eye was one of genuine unease, and not for the first time, Rafael wanted to sit down a Carisi sibling for a little chat.

“It's just...my sister can put her foot in her mouth a lot, Christ fucking knows, but what if-if this time she's right?”

Rafael did his best to be dignified as he crawled across the bed, settling next to Sonny with his back against the headboard. He reached down to lace his fingers between Sonny's, his thumb making calming circles on the back of Sonny's hand. “I could kill your sister,” he said, his voice low and menacing. He didn't mean it, not really, but there was an uneasy peace between Rafael and Sonny's sisters and moments like this put unnecessary strain on things. Sonny chuckled.

“You'd have to get in line. And it ain't a short one.”

“Yeah, what's she up to now? Four fiancees? Five? She's really a paragon of dating advice, that one.”

“Hey now. It's only four, and she's still my sister.”

Rafael turned his head and stared into the clear blue eyes that met his. He filled his voice with all the earnestness he could muster. “She is your sister. She's also wrong. You know I love you. When have you ever known me to do something I really didn't want to do?”

“I dunno, when was the last time hell froze over?”

Rafael arched an eyebrow and waved his other hand in a ‘thats the point’ gesture. Sonny blushed. “Yeah, yeah. Fine. This is one of those times I'm being ridiculous. Got it.”

Rafael pressed a kiss to the back of Sonny's hand. “You said it. Not me.”

“Would you at least let me buy you one of those lumbar support car pillow things?” They'd gotten Tessa something similar last year and the memory of the thick gray memory foam made Rafael shudder.

“Alright, now I'll say it - you're being ridiculous.”

“You know it'll help and won't take it because it's ugly, and I'm the one being ridiculous?” Apparently Rafael wasn't the only one with memories of his more choice descriptions of Tessa’s gift.

Rafael laughed, clear and bright, and levered himself up off the bed. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Sonny's head as he passed. “In the name of my dignity and sex appeal, I think I can tough it out a little longer. I'm going to go take a shower. Order us something to eat?”

Sonny nodded, leaning across the bed to search for a menu as Rafael stripped his polo off, dropping it onto the cool tile of the bathroom floor. He flipped on the strong spray of the shower and felt an almost embarrassing amount of gratitude for the hotel's unlimited hot water.

**

Sonny was just taking the lids off the room service when Rafael walked out of the bathroom, the plush terrycloth robe tied loose and low on his hips, hair still dripping.

He wrapped his arms around Sonny's waist and pressed his forehead into the soft skin between Sonny's shoulder blades. “Dinner smells delicious.”

“The woman at the desk recommended the chicken piccata, so fingers crossed.” He turned and wrapped his long arms around Rafael's neck. He rested his cheek against the other man's temple and breathed him in, that clean, masculine smell, still laced with warmth from the shower.

“Do you wanna talk about it some more?” Rafael's voice buzzed against his chest, making Sonny shiver.

“Nah. You were right, I was just being dumb. Forget it and we'll eat?”

Rafael grabbed his plate and looked at Sonny, eyebrow quirked. “Just like that huh?”

“Please?”

Rafael sighed, but smiled. There was just a little something more there, an edge to the way Sonny smiled, but Rafael decided it wasn't worth picking at. Not in the moment. He knew Sonny would come to him in his own sweet time if it was important, and if it wasn't, it wasn't worth either of their worry.

Instead of answering, he gestured to the muted TV in the sitting area and grabbed his plate, crossing to the the small couch to have a seat. The cost of the suite had seemed extravagant at the time, but now Rafael was glad for the small sitting area. It was nice. Homey, even. And for someone who never would have called himself a homey person, Rafael was suddenly deeply, intensely grateful.

“You know, it's really a dirty pull to put Chris up there like that,” Rafael pointed to the screen with his fork.

“It's not my fault he's on before Rachel _ and  _ that you love blondes,” Sonny quipped back around a mouthful of spaghetti. Rafael rolled his eyes and sank backwards into the couch.

They left the show on mute as they watched the chiron scroll and the graphics flash, letting the day’s headlines lead their conversation. They bickered and bantered and brainstormed all the ways they'd fix the world if they had a little more time, a smaller caseload.

The chicken piccata was excellent, and as the night wore on, their conversation slowed. Sin they were speaking more in pauses than in words, and their bodies had drifted closer and closer to each other on the couch. There was a gravity between them, a physics that required the tangle of limbs as a mathematical constant.

It was long past the witching hour, well into The 700 Club, when Sonny roused them both and they fell dreamlessly into the hotel bed. Sonny curled around Rafael, one hand cupped reflexively over his hip.

It could have been any other night in Manhattan, the essences of all their nights distilled. But they slept deeper, longer, and when Rafael woke the next morning, his back felt remarkably better. 


	3. 03

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was entirely fueled by painkillers, and as such is patently silly fluff.
> 
> My eternal love to the fight garden for never questioning my ridiculous headcanon inquiries, and to Robin Hood for the late night beta!
> 
> Standard disclaimer and don't forget the kudos/comments tip jar is always open.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Sonny said, sliding his long legs into the car first, sinking into the passenger’s seat and setting their drinks in the cup holders. Rafael finished filling the tank, screwing on the gas cap and slipping the receipt into the designated section of his wallet before he popped open the driver’s door and smirked down at his husband.

“I wouldn’t joke about something like that.” His voice was grave as he pulled the buckle across his lap and took a long drink of coffee before checking his mirror and slipping into drive.

“Andre Braugher makes your list?”

“What, he doesn’t make yours?”

Sonny fell silent as he twisted open the bottle of Dr. Pepper, letting the hissing stop before he took a long drink and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “Honestly? Not really. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t say no.”

“How reassuring.”

“Oh come on Rafi, you know what I mean. He’s just not my type. He's so...serious.”

“Yeah, because you married a known laugh riot. He's hilarious on  _ Brooklyn Nine-Nine. _ ”

Sonny scoffed. “Cop shows. Never realistic,” he grumbled.

“Oh come on, that's one of the better ones. And stop deflecting.” Rafael raised an eyebrow and glanced at him pointedly before returning his gaze back to the road. “The point about Andre stands. Now stop stalling. It’s your turn, and you have to go twice.”

“Since when?!”

“Since you skipped your last turn and this is still a family that believes in law and order.” Sonny blushed deeply and wondered briefly if his stomach would ever stop flipping everytime Rafael so casually referred to them as family. He kind of hoped not.

“Okay,” Sonny ran his hand over his cheek and Rafael heard the rasp of stubble. The sound sent the faintest shiver down his spine and his fingers twitched to reach out and touch. “Next up has to be Anderson Cooper.”

Rafael hummed appreciatively. “Anderson. Good choice.”

Sonny laughed and turned in his seat to stare at Rafael playfully. He crossed his arm in silent challenge. “Anderson or Chris?”

Rafael groaned. “You're evil.”

It was Sonny's turn to quirk an eyebrow. He stayed silent.

“I plead the fifth.”

Sonny studied his nail beds and kept silent.

“It's not even a fair comparison.”

Sonny began to hum the  _ Jeopardy  _ theme as he fiddled with the air vents.

Rafael clenched his jaw so tight Sonny could practically hear the muscle tense, and just as he was about to tell Rafael not to worry about it, that he was just teasing, Rafael grunted.

“Fine. Chris, if you're going to force me to choose.”

Sonny bit the inside of his cheek, but didn't say more than ‘hmmm’.

“What? What ‘hmmm’?”

“Oh nothing, nothing. It's just - I knew it.” Sonny turned the wattage on his smile all the way up and Rafael didn't on known if he wanted to smack him or kiss him.

Who was he kidding.

“Kiss me.”

“What?”

“You're being an ass, but I love you and I want a kiss but if I come to you I'm liable to run this car off the road. Something I don't think falls under the terms of our rental coverage. So - kiss me.”

Sonny unbuckled his seatbelt to lean across the center console and press a soft kiss to Rafael’s cheek. Rafael grinned, and then squealed as Sonny dropped his lips lower and snuffled against the sensitive skin behind Rafael’s ear. He scrunched his shoulder in an attempt to squeeze Sonny out of the space, and the car swerved slightly in its lane.

“Jesus, Sonny,” he yelped, and Sonny backed off, cackling as he pressed himself back into the corner of the passenger's seat.

“Sorry, sorry. Couldn't help myself.”

“You know if I'm driving when we die, your sisters are gonna kill me.”

“Only if your mom doesn't beat them to it.”

“The point is, Dominick,” Sonny flinched at his full name, “ _ you  _ were supposed to kiss  _ me  _ specifically so we wouldn't get in an accident.”

“You're right. I'm sorry.” The look of contrition he slapped on his face was completely undermined by the playful glint in his eye. “Okay, where were we? Next pick: Rob Lowe… What?”

“What what?”

“You know what! You made a face.”

“I did not. This is my face. It's just. He's so…”

“Strikingly handsome? A reformed bad boy?”

“Bland.”

Sonny burst out laughing until tears streamed down his face and there was a stitch in his side. “You might be the only person I've ever known who thinks Rob Lowe falls into the ‘bland' category!”

Rafael just shrugged, expression stern and eyes locked on the road. “Well you can put him and that other guy on Bland White Man Island, if I get a vote.”

“That other guy?”

“Yeah, the  _ Call Me By Your Name  _ guy. But not the young one, the one that looks like a Ken doll.”

“Armie Hammer?”

Rafael rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Him. He and Rob Lowe both look like they were made in the same Real Doll factory. It's uncanny.”

“How do you know what a Real Doll is?”

“I know things!” Rafael huffed defensively before adding more quietly, “Their owner was thinking about switching to a BitCoin only model. It was in that Forbes article I emailed you.”

That would explain it. Sonny nodded and smiled his way through Rafael's newest news obsessions regularly, but when it came to the intricacies of an imaginary digital currency, he had to tap out. He hadn't read that article, or any of a dozen others.

“Well, be that as it may, watching him on  _ The West Wing _ was formative, so.”

“For you and every other young, closeted liberal policy wonk with a boner for Justice and Liberty and The American Promise,” Rafael sneered.

Sonny just looked at him a beat. “You done?”

The tips of Rafael's ears turned pink and he looked sheepish, a rare showing. “Sorry. It's a...popular refrain around the 1PP water cooler.”

“Rafael Barba, jealous of a fictional character?” Sonny leaned over and laid his hand high on Rafael's thigh, his long fingers stroking along his inseam. His breath ghosted warm over Rafael's ear. “I promise babe, you're the only wonk I've got a hard on for around here.”

“That doesn't even make sense,” Rafael quipped, ignoring the slow swell of erection happening mere centimeters from Sonny's fingers.

Sonny shrugged and sat back, the absence of his hand leaving Rafael's thigh cold. “I think you get the gist,” he looked pointedly at Rafael's crotch and licked his lips hungrily. “Your turn.”

Rafael swallowed dryly and coughed on his own saliva, his brain struggling to pull back a functional amount of blood.

“Um. Oh, okay. Nikolaj Coster-Waldau.”

“Who?”

“Jaime Lannister.” Rafael said it like it should have been the most obvious answer in the world.

“Oh! Yeah. Definitely. I could see that. I mean, he's for sure your type.”

“And what type is that?”

“Blond, primarily.”

“He is not a blond.” Rafael sounded personally affronted by the assertion. Sonny's jaw dropped slightly.

“What are you talking about? He is absolutely a blond!”

“Jaime Lannister may barely count as a blond, when his hair is clean enough to see, but the actor isn't the character and as per the original rules of the game, we are talking about actors. And the actor is definitely not blond.”

“Does the Defense rest, Counselor?”

Rafael chuckled, but mimed zipping his lips.

“Fine. Rebuttal: he keeps his hair blond through the course of filming, making him functionally blond for a statistically significant portion of the year. Hence, a blond.”

Silence stretched between them until Rafael clucked his tongue and shook his head sharply. “Nope. Still doesn't count.”

“Rafi! He's just as blond as I am!”

“My point exactly, silver fox.”

Sonny smiled, but even with his eyes on the road Rafael didn't miss the way Sonny's fingers rose to gently stroke the silver hair at his temples.

Rafael’s hand darted out and wrapped around Sonny's, and he risked life and limb to lean over and press a gentle kiss to the back of his fingers. “My silver fox,” he said, his voice rough and possessive, and Sonny flexed a finger to run it along Rafael's full lower lip. Rafael sat back up with a small, warm smile on his face, his own hand drifting up to ghost across the lingering heat of Sonny's touch.

“Last pick,” he said.

Sonny ‘hmmm’ed thoughtfully. “Last pick? Milo Ventimiglia.”

“The  _ Gilmore Girls  _ guy?”

Sonny's eyes widened. “That was him, wasn't it?”

“Wait, what do you know him from?”

“ _ This is Us _ ,” Sonny said, overcome with the desire to slap his forehead.

“That stupid cry show you call Amanda about every week?”

“‘Stupid cry show’,” Sonny repeated under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief. “It's won Emmys, you know.”

“So did  _ Everybody Loves Raymond _ .”

“I love  _ Everybody Loves Raymond.” _

_ “ _ Of course you do,” Rafael said laughing. “I still think Milo whatshisbucket was cuter on  _ Gilmore Girls _ .”

“Color me shocked. He was what, like, 25 when he did that show?”

“And?”

“And if ‘blond’ is one half of the Venn diagram of Rafael Barba’s ‘type’, ‘young’ is the other.”

Rafael opened and closed his mouth a few times before his shoulders slumped slightly and he sighed, resigned. “You may not be entirely wrong about that.”

Sonny's laugh was clear and bright and Rafael’s laugh mixed with his, a low rumble that started quiet and grew as they fell further and further into a joke that wasn't all that funny. Sonny laced his fingers through Rafael’s and squeezed.

“Lucky for you, you managed to marry to type, huh?”

Rafael glanced at him and beamed. “Yeah, yeah it is” he said as he glanced in both mirrors and wedged his knee under the wheel.

As quickly as he could, he turned and met Sonny over the center console, licking into his mouth deeply and quickly, breaking apart with heavy breaths and a reluctant refocusing on the road. “The young part, anyway,” and he winked at Sonny.

Sonny didn't believe in violence, but that didn't keep him from slugging Rafael on the bicep as another peal of laughter filled the tiny car.


End file.
